Possibilities
by ink teardrops
Summary: There was a life out there that was meant for Harry Potter. A life that existed only in his dreams —-Harry reflects on the life that he could have had


_I had one of those rare moments today when someone says something to you or you hear a lyric that just makes you think of a brilliant story idea. For me, it happened when I heard part of Laura Marling's song 'Alas I Cannot Swim". I own neither the lyrics nor the characters/plot/_

/

"_There's a life across the river_

_That was meant for me_

_Instead I live my life in constant misery"_

_-Alas I Cannot Swim, Laura Marling_

/

Sometimes Harry Potter wondered what his life would be like if his parents had lived.

As he lay in his four poster bed at the top of the Gryffindor Tower at night when the only sounds he could hear were the mild snores and the unconscious murmurings of Dean, Seamus, Ron and Neville, the distant hooting of owls and the gentle wind whistling through the open windows, the crimson hangings around his bed whispered tragically tantalising thoughts to him of a life that he could have led.

A life he _could _have led, but never would.

A life in which his parents had survived, Voldemort had never existed, Peter Pettigrew had never betrayed anyone, the prophecy had never been spoken and he had grown up living a normal life like the rest of his classmates.

The life he _should_ have led.

He could picture it so clearly, as he lay staring up at the crimson ceiling above him, imagining what life would be like if he had grown up with people that cared for him and loved him unconditionally. He pictured what life would be like if he had grown up with a family of his own.

His father would be Harry's hazel eyed twin and he would teach him to play Quidditch, send him a letter of congratulations when he made Gryffindor, retell tales of his school days and always be there for him. His mother would be loving and kind, she would cry when he received his Hogwarts letter and she would never fail to give him advice when he needed it. They would have come with him to King's Cross on the 1st September and wave him off as he climbed on the scarlet steam train for the first time, ready to face a whole new world of adventures. He might even have had another sibling – a sister or a brother he could grow up with, play games with and look out for. He wouldn't have had his face plastered over every newspaper, his name printed in every history book, he would've led an ordinary life, out of the spotlight and he would have been loved.

Instead he was forced to live in a world filled with blinding camera flashes, whispered theories, a dark lonely cupboard, a family that didn't want to love him and everybody wanting a piece of the famous Harry Potter. A life of not knowing who he truly was, yet knowing that he could have lived his dream, he could have been happy.

He hated himself for thinking such tragically unreachable thoughts that filled him with the dull ache of hopeless longing night after night. He hated himself for fantasising about something that was never ever going to happen because his parents were gone and he knew that and no thinking about the what-ifs and the might-have-beens was going to change that. At the same time, he looked forward to them, he looked forward to the oddly comforting thoughts of an ordinarily happy life that so easily could have been his.

Sometimes, Harry Potter dreamed of the life he could have lived.

He would picture it so vividly that he could nearly imagine that it was real and that his world of Voldemort and Horcruxes was just some horrific nightmare that he was going to wake up from at any minute.

But he could never fool himself. After hours of thinking of the possibilities, he would finally admit to himself that no spell could reawaken the dead and then, he would roll over and let a wave of dreams wash over him before awaking the next morning to a parent-free reality.

Even when he accepted his reality, he knew that out there somewhere, there was a life that was meant for Harry Potter: a life of family, friends and love.

Sometimes Harry Potter wondered what his life would be like if his parents had lived.

He would never truly know, he could only guess but there was one thing he knew for certain.

There was a life out there that was meant for Harry Potter to live. A life he never would get to experience. A life that was confined solely to the musings of a black-haired boy that lay in his dorm room, staring up at the crimson hangings of his four poster bed.

A life that existed only in dreams.


End file.
